control unit round his wrist. ‘So you know how this thing works?’
‘Sort of. Jack showed me. Okay, more told me than showed me, but I got the gist.’
‘I’ll take your word for it,’ Nina said nervously. She brought the rope around herself and Chase for a second time and pulled it tight, squeezing them both together as she knotted it.
He wrapped his arms round her, plodding to the edge of the wing bridge. ‘We need to get up on the railing. Can you manage?’
‘I’ll have to, won’t I?’ Looking down as Chase lifted her, Nina used her left heel to push herself up on each bar of the railing. He followed, one heavy step at a time. She gritted her teeth as her leg wound pressed against Chase’s thigh, but managed not to cry out.
‘Good lass,’ said Chase as they balanced precariously on the top rail, leaning against a post for support. ‘Okay, let’s see if I can get this thing started.’
‘Before you do . . .’ Nina said.
‘What?’
She kissed him. ‘Just in case I don’t get another chance.’
He smiled. ‘Hey, I finally committed to a wedding date - I’m not going to bloody miss it!’ He returned the kiss, then examined the control unit as Nina clung to him. ‘Okay. Let’s see . . .’
He touched a button. The pack’s sides sprang open like the shell of a beetle taking flight, black carbon-fibre delta wings popping out and unfolding before each section then telescoped outwards with a clack.
Chase was impressed by the speed and precision of the deployment, the total wingspan almost ten feet. ‘Pretty cool. All right, engines.’ He poised his finger over the next control. ‘Hold on really tight,’ he warned Nina. ‘Because when I push this button, it’s going to feel like a kick up the arse, and we’ll go over the edge!’
Nina squeezed her eyes shut. ‘Do it.’
Chase leaned forward and pushed the button.
The four miniature jet turbines screeched to life, the heat from their exhausts instantly blistering the paint on the railing as Chase and Nina fell. The wings flexed in the wind as they dropped, picking up speed—
Downwards. They were plunging parallel to the side of the ship, decks flashing past them.
Chase shifted position, arms outstretched as he arched his back, trying to level out. If he could build up enough speed for the wings to generate lift . . .
The black water rushed towards him, patterns of light from the ship shimmering over it. Still dropping, too fast—
The reflections started to slide under him as the engines reached full thrust and drove them away from the
It still wasn’t enough. They were past the level of the main deck, plummeting the final metres towards the ocean—
They levelled out, the wings abruptly bending upwards as if coming to life. Nina shrieked as the ropes pulled tight around her. Chase desperately leaned back as hard as he could, face pounded by the freezing wind rasping at his skin.
But would it be enough to keep them out of the water?
His eyes were streaming in the rising wind. Something shot past to one side: the lifeboat, a barely glimpsed blur of colour falling behind . . .
And below.
They were gaining height!
Chase strained to hold his position as Nina hung beneath him, the thrust from the engines combined with the angle of the wings just enough to put them into a shallow but steady climb. He squinted at the control unit, watching a digital altimeter gradually count upwards. Remembering how much fuel Mitchell had told him the glidewing carried, he struggled to work out how high they could go before it ran out. Nina could have done the calculations in moments, he knew, but the roar of wind and engines would have made it hard to get the information across - and from the way she was shivering, she had other things on her mind. Like temperature, and gravity.
About three thousand feet, he worked out. He would be able to see to the horizon over sixty miles away - assuming there was anything to see. Mitchell wouldn’t have wanted any other vessels close enough to observe when he fired the earth energy weapon. The question was, could they glide for long enough to reach anything that might be out there?
The glidewing kept climbing. A thousand feet, and rising. Chase felt Nina’s heartbeat thudding against his chest. Rapid, scared . . . but gradually slowing.
Not because she was calming down. Because she was starting to freeze in the bitter wind.
‘Stay with me!’ he shouted. Her hand squeezed his side. But exposure would take its toll soon enough - and even he couldn’t withstand it for ever. It had been years since he had trained for such conditions.
Minutes passed, the altimeter still rising, the jets howling. Not much fuel left. Chase wiped his eyes, realising his tears had frozen on his face. He could barely feel his own touch, nerves numbed.
Three thousand.
A red light flashed on the wrist unit. A fuel warning. One minute left, or thirty seconds, or ten? He didn’t know. But the powered part of the flight was almost over, only a long glide down into the blackness remaining . . .
Off in the distance, a little constellation of blue and yellow. In the overcast utter darkness it was almost impossible to judge how far away it was, but Chase doubted it was anything less than twenty miles. Could the glidewing carry them that far?
No choice but to find out the hard way. He banked, lining up with the ship.
The engines stuttered, then cut out. The only noise now came from the wind.
He felt Nina’s hold on him loosening. ‘Nina, stay awake!’ he yelled. ‘There’s a ship, we can make it!’ He didn’t know if that was true, but if he’d unwittingly lied, she wouldn’t have a chance to call him on it.
The altimeter was counting down now. He leaned back as much as he could, trying to maintain height, but without the engines descent was inevitable.
Two thousand feet. The lights still distant, but getting closer, the constellation taking on tantalising form. Smaller than the
Closer. Fifteen hundred feet. Nina was now held as much by the rope as by her own efforts, grip weakening, heart slowing. He had no feeling in his face, barely any in his outstretched hands. A thousand feet. The spaces between the lights began to fill with solid colours, the ship fading in from the blackness as if in a movie. Five hundred. Closer. Four hundred, three . . .
Nina went limp. He fought to hold his position as her arms and legs dangled in the slipstream, slowing them. Two hundred, one, dropping fast—
The ship rushed at him, a mast springing out of the darkness directly ahead. Chase twisted, losing lift. Something on the deck, a pile of nets and glistening silver within. He aimed for it, last chance before overshooting and plunging into the waters beyond—
They slammed into the nets. The wings cracked and broke off, but Chase had already wrapped his arms round Nina to protect her as they slithered through a huge pile of fish, scattering freshly caught cod everywhere. The other side of the net was being winched up off the deck; they skidded up it before rolling back into the flapping shoal.
‘Bloody hell!’ Chase gasped. His sense of touch might have been numbed, but his sense of smell was working all too well. ‘Stinks!’ The net stopped. He looked round to see a group of shocked fishermen staring at him.
Nina moved feebly in his grip. ‘Nina! Are you okay? Nina!’
‘Eddie . . .’ she whispered drowsily, moving again - this time to rest her head against his chest with an expression almost of contentment, eyes closed. It didn’t last long, though. Her nose twitched, and she frowned. ‘What’s that smell?’
Chase laughed in relief, hugging her. He looked back at the trawlermen as they clambered on to the net. ‘Ay up, lads!’ he said. ‘You going anywhere near England?’
36
